The Runaway Revised and Rewritten
by carnation-princess
Summary: After an accident leaves Kili in a coma, Fili runs away. Can his family find him before it is too late?
1. The Runaway

Disclaimer-I don't own any of this, I am just playing and will return everyone and everything when I'm done.

I am using this website to calculate dwarven ages. . So Fíli at the time of this story would be 10 years old in human years.

* * *

It was a dark, frigid, moonless night at the end of January, one of those nights where one just wanted to curl up next to the fire with a hot cup of tea. It was certainly no place for a 20-year-old dwarfling to be wandering around, especially not in the forest of Mirkwood.

The dwarfling was covered in mud, which was caked on his long curly locks. He appeared to have blonde hair once, but now it was black, as dark as the night. His normally sky blue eyes appeared dim and old. They did not look like they belonged to a dwarfling whose beard was just starting to make an appearance. His clothes, dirty and ripped in various places looked like they were regal once, but now were clothes for a pauper. The warm fur jacket he was wearing looked like it had seen better days.

The dwarfling coughed, as more tears threatened to fall. He thought he had no more tears to cry but just the mere thought of being lost on an unfamiliar path in Mirkwood made more tears fall. He had wandering alone for three days now, surviving on whatever plants he could find on the paths, and water from the almost constant snow that had finally subsided what felt like minutes ago. In reality it has stopped 5 hours ago, but Fíli, the dwarfling did not know that, so wet and miserable was he.

Just when Fíli thought he could not get any worse for the wear, he tripped over something and found himself meeting the muddy ground yet again. That was the third time since he ran away from home he found himself face down on the ground. It was almost like the ground wanted him to cuddle with it. He lay on the ground crying in darkness of night, letting tears of pain both mental and physical carry him to the world of haunting dreams…

 _"_ _F_ _í_ _li!_ _"_ _A young voice shouted._

 _"_ _K_ _í_ _li, don_ _'_ _t come closer!_ _"_ _F_ _í_ _li yelled back, looking around at an unfamiliar room._

 _The sound o footsteps came closer to him, as all of the sudden the room got bigger and bigger. F_ _í_ _li looked around; where was he? He did not have time to think, as K_ _í_ _li entered the room that was growing by the second._

 _The next thing F_ _í_ _li knew, the floor opened up beneath his brother, and he disappeared._

 _"_ _KEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!_ _"_ _he screamed._

Fíli shot up off the ground with a scream. _'_ _Just a dream_ _'_ , he thought to himself as he opened up his eyes to the dawn of a new wet and morbid day.

Fíli sniffled as he tried to breathe out of his nose, as more tears threatened to fall. Thoughts were running through his mind, causing him to get a headache. Fíli raised his hand up to his forehead to try to relieve the pressure, just as cousin Oín told him to do one time. All he knew, was that he had to keep moving. Mirkwood was not exactly the safest place to be in Middle Earth, and he knew he was not wanted back in Erebor. Fíli knew he could never return to Erebor, third in line for the throne or not. Especially not after what he did, not after what was said to him. Fíli stood up and continued his journey, stopping twice, to pick some berries that he found underneath fallen snow, and to take a sip of water that had collected in a giant leaf. He smiled for the first time in five days, when he finally saw the edge of Mirkwood and what he considered freedom.

* * *

Meanwhile, back in Erebor, there was a lot of commotion coming from the royal chambers. It had been five days since what is now being called 'the accident', which left young Prince Kíli in a coma, and Prince Fíli missing. Servants, extended family members, and members of the court were running around everywhere, many it seemed had no destination in mind. One royal, Princess Dís, the mother of Fíli and Kíli had not left her youngest's side since her brother Frérin brought Kíli to her in this state five days ago. She currently sat in a chair holding her youngest son's hand as the door silently opened to let in the elderly royal healer, Narvi to change the bandages that currently crisscrossed Kíli's body and head.

There was a heavy aura in the room, stifling almost, a difficult situation for a healer to work in. It was quiet, almost too quiet, the princess was not even crying anymore for her two sons, one injured and the other one only Mahal knew where he was. Narvi had to break the silence in the room; it was not healthy for the princess, and could result in him and the rest of the healers in the Mountain having another royal to treat.

"Milady," Narvi said, softly as not to startle the princess, "has there been any news about Prince Fíli? Has anyone seen him?"

Dís could only shake her head no. Her father Thráin, her brothers Thórin and Frérin, her husband Víli, as well as a small contingent of royal guards were all out of the Mountain searching for any trace of her son. However, so far all of the ravens coming back from them have been negative. It had been five long days since she last saw her golden haired son. It was too long, Fíli was too young to be out there on his own for so long. She sighed. There was nothing she could do for her eldest at the present; she could only focus on her youngest. Somehow she gathered strength she did not know she could muster to meet Narvi's eyes with such sorrow, she was certain her heart would be breaking soon.

Narvi grinned and grabbed Dís's hand away from her son. "If you need anything or anything changes, let me know." Narvi gently placed Dís's hand on her son's arm and left the room as soundlessly as he came in.

As soon as the door closed, Dís grabbed her son's hand again. "Kíli, mama's here, please wake up," she said softly while trying to hold back tears. "Kíli, please."

Dís's eyes felt wet as she lost all control. She wept as she was beginning to lose hope. All she wanted was Kíli to wake up and Fíli to be safe in her arms once again. It was hopeless, what she would not do to have Víli next to her right now. Dís reached a low point she was unaware of as she fell onto her son's bed all but landing on the still dwarfling. She was oblivious to the door opening up again to allow someone into the room. She had no idea that her grandfather, King Thrór had walked in to cover her with a blanket, and did not leave. There was nothing to be said, nothing that could be said, nothing that could be done, but wait and pray to any god that may hear their prayer.

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If you havent done so, go back and reread this fic. I have an amazing beta reader now, paytonrich!


	2. The Search Party

Once again, I am just playing with everyone.

* * *

Fíli stood at the edge of the trees. He could see a small cottage in the distance, going there was not an option, for anyone who lived there most likely knew who he was, and would return him to Erebor. The dwarfling turned his attention to the large, empty plain in front of him and in the distance, he could see the Misty Mountains. He smiled to himself, as a happy memory came into his mind with the sight of the mountains.

 _It was sunset, and he found himself being led somewhere by his Uncle Th_ _ó_ _rin. He did not know where he was being led; all he knew is that he was happy. His Uncle suddenly stopped in front of what looked like a wall, but instead Th_ _ó_ _rin pushed it open and led F_ _í_ _li outside to the top of the Lonely Mountain. He ran to the edge to take in the beautiful picture he was seeing. It was an amazing sight, seeing the Misty Mountains glowing in all shades of red, orange, & yellow. F_ _í_ _li yelped as Th_ _ó_ _rin picked him up and took him to a rock where he sat down, placing F_ _í_ _li on his lap. Uncle and nephew then proceeded to watch the sun_ _'_ _s last show of the day, and stayed there in each other_ _'_ _s company until the stars came out to play._

 _F_ _í_ _li yawned and snuggled closer to Th_ _ó_ _rin. His uncle responded by pulling F_ _í_ _li closer to him._ _"_ _Uncle Th_ _ó_ _rin?_ _"_ _F_ _í_ _li said, breaking the tranquil moment._

 _"_ _Yes?_ _"_

 _"_ _You_ _'_ _ll love me until the day I die, right?_ _"_ _F_ _í_ _li asked._

 _Th_ _ó_ _rin laughed._ _"_ _Oh, F_ _í_ _li, F_ _í_ _li, F_ _í_ _li. I_ _'_ _ll love you until the day I die._ _"_

The cawing of a crow broke Fíli away from the memory. It was a moment he never would forget, when he knew he was loved, when he was still wanted. That was all gone from him now. Something told him to turn around towards Mirkwood to get a glimpse of the Lonely Mountain, the place where he was born and he spent the first 20 years of his life.

He sighed as he kept trekking on, towards the Misty Mountains. In his muddled mind, he knew to be truly free; he would have to get to the other side of those mountains. However, this being his first time this far away from home, he would never survive crossing the mountains.

He was flat out told that in all of his lessons by various tutors and well-meaning family members, well former family members. Fíli could never see them again, and they would never accept him back, not after what he did, not after what happened. His eyes filled with tears just thinking about it again.

He had to make a decision, attempt to cross the mountains or find a way around the mountains. If he remembered correctly, one of his tutors, Balin, taught him about the Gap of Rohan, a way around the mountains, and in order to get there from Erebor, cut through Mirkwood, and turn left. It was the only way; Fíli made the final step out of Mirkwood, and turned left.

* * *

"Fíli! Fíli! Where are you?" A loud demanding voice cried in the middle of the bustling city of Dale.

The people of Dale were stopping to stare at the well-dressed dwarf. They all knew who he was, Crown Prince Thráin, heir to the throne of Erebor. It was extremely rare to see Prince Thráin in Dale, even rarer to see him in a near state of panic.

"Fíli!" He yelled again.

By that point, people were starting to crowd around the Prince. It was common knowledge that the name being called was Thráin's daughter's eldest son, his grandson, Fíli. However, no one knew why he would be looking for the young dwarfling in Dale of all palaces. Should not he be safe in the Lonely Mountain?

Thráin looked around, hoping that any second the golden haired dwarfling would run out from behind a barrel or a house into his waiting arms. The more he wished, the more hope he lost that that wish was not coming true at that point. In addition, for some strange reason, a new feeling that was arising in him, a feeling that he felt for a brief second five days ago, at the dwarfling in question, but that feeling was not directed at Fíli at all. This feeling of anger was directed at the one whom Thráin felt was directly responsible for Fíli running.

"Father!" A younger voice broke him out of his reverie.

Thráin turned around to see three dwarves running towards him, two dark haired ones, his sons Thórin and Frérin who had been the one who had spoken, and his daughter's husband, the golden haired Víli. The crowd parted to let the three of them through, all of whom they recognized. Thráin smiled at Frérin and Víli, but could only scowl at his eldest, his heir, Thórin, for it was him he was angry at. He was the reason they were all there in Dale at that moment, and he was the reason why Fíli, his own heir was missing at that moment.

"Any sign?" Thráin asked, directing his question towards his son-in-law.

Víli only shook his head. No one in Dale had seen Fíli, not a single soul. His heart was breaking in two, his eldest son was gone, no one had seen him in five days since Thórin had all but casted him out, and his youngest was currently unconscious back home with his wife, her mother, cousins, and grandparents. The rest of the family was with him. Although at that moment, he wished he could wish his oldest brother-in-law away. He had not been able to say more than two words to him in five days; at least today, he could look at him for a few seconds before being repulsed. Sure Thórin had tried to start a conversation; they used to be best friends growing up. It was actually Thórin that had convinced Víli to court his sister and then eventually ask for her hand in marriage. But, Víli was not sure if they could ever go back to the way things were after all that happened. Víli was almost positive if anything happened to either of his boys, he would personally murder Thórin, and he would not care if he were thrown into the dungeons for the rest of his life. It would be a sweet revenge.

"I don't think he's here, Father," Frérin said. "We met with Girion, who told us that no one had seen him. He did not think he had ever come through here. He said he would tell the guard to keep an eye out, but I think we need to move out of Dale. He is not here."

Thráin nodded at Frérin. He began to run in the direction of Mirkwood, the other three following him. The crowd parted, before they disappeared out of Dale, Víli gave what looked like a small wave of the hand, and ten other dwarves appeared from behind the gates and followed the royal family. Could Fíli have gone into Mirkwood? Very possible, since Thrór and Thranduíl became allies and friends upon Thrór recolonizing Erebor. Thranduíl, his son Legolas, and Tauriel, captain and bodyguard of the king were frequent visitors to the Lonely Mountain. Was it possible that Fíli had gone to visit his first non-dwarven friends, Legolas and Tauriel? It was worth a visit, if not, he could get the Mirkwood elves involved in the search, Fíli was well loved among the elves of Mirkwood and they would help for that reason. Thráin nodded and led the contingent into the forest of Mirkwood.

* * *

Fíli walked along the River Anduin towards what he hoped was the Gap of Rohan. A light breeze blew across his mud-caked hair, his stomach rumbled with hunger. He had not eaten a true meal since running away. What he would not do right now for some venison or pork. Suddenly, Fíli lost his footing on the frozen ground and found himself face down on the cold earth for the second time in hours. This time he cried and he did not stop or fall asleep.

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Thank you paytonrich for betaing!


	3. Bofur, Bombur, Bifur

Don't own, never will.

* * *

Fíli found that he had no will to get up despite the ground being frigid and solid. He could care less about the world around him and what could happen. Whatever was going to happen was going to happen and whatever happened already happened already. Fíli was not even going to try to change anything. He could not, he could go back and apologize but would he even be welcomed back into Erebor? Before he could even begin to think about that thought, a shiver went up his spine. Was he going to freeze to death? What an end this would be for a one-time heir to the Throne of Erebor, he thought.

 _You_ _'_ _re no heir of mine!_ A very familiar voice echoed into his mind. He probably looked pathetic lying there on the ground. As the voice said in his mind, he was no heir of anyone or anything anymore. He knew that if anyone cared enough to come looking for him, he would probably be blue in the face. Balin had told him that once, that a frozen dwarf turns blue, though he had never seen one. That would be funny; his first blue dwarf would be himself.

"Well, what do we have here?" a voice said from above him.

A warm heavy hand was placed on his frozen back. Fíli whimpered at the touch, he never knew that a warm hand on a cold body could hurt.

"Oh you're alive," the voice said.

Fíli was curious to who had found him, but he found that he had no strength left to turn around. He was barely able to feel his toes and fingers, that was not good, was it? The ground was becoming quite comfortable and that was not a good thing at all. He just wanted to sink into it and never move. Suddenly he felt himself being turned over by someone or someones.

The someone gasped. "You can't be much older than Eydis." The someone muttered. Who is Eydis?

"Bofur, Bifur, we have a young one here!" his rescuer called.

Fíli opened up his eyes he did not even know were closed, and was greeted by what seemed like the widest dwarf he had ever seen! Not as tall as his cousin, Dáin, but wide and round with long orange tinted hair with a bushy orange moustache, and a thick orange braid that went down to his stomach. Orange was the only color he could use here, as flaming red belonged to his cousin Glóin.

"Are you okay lad?" the dwarf asked as he was joined by two others, one with a strange hat, and another with an axe in his forehead. That did not make any sense.

Fíli knew the right thing to do was to be honest. That has been drilled into his head since he could remember. He cried out as he realized that he had not spoken in five days, he had not used his voice in so long. Did he forget how to use it? He tried to make a sound, but all that came out was a hoarse whisper of something he did not even know what he said. His rescuer frowned and placed his large hand on his forehead, he was not sick, was he? Fíli turned away, he did not want to be touched, he did not deserve it, not after what he did.

 _Your_ _'_ _re no heir of mine!_

"What's your name lad?" His rescuer asked. He seemed like he was genuinely looking to help as well as his two companions, who had knelt down on either side of him.

Fíli saw no harm in trying to tell these dwarves his name. They obviously did not recognize him, and he did not recognize them. They did not appear to be from Erebor. Total strangers, nomads perhaps. Fíli sat up; abandoning the position he was found in. He did not trust his voice so he was attempted to write his name in the snow. It was coming out slowly but surely

"Fíli. Your name is Fíli?" the dwarf in the funny hat asked after he had completed the four letters in his name in the common tongue.

Fíli smiled and nodded in recognition of his name. There was something about these dwarves that he felt like he could trust them, more than he could trust his Uncle Thórin. He felt the safest he has been since he fled Erebor in shame.

His rescuer returned his smile, "My name is Bombur, my brother kneeling besides you in the silly hat is Bofur, and our cousin with the axe in his head is Bifur."

Bofur gave his brother a look in response to his hat comment but was able to smile and say hello to Fíli. Bifur muttered something in Khuzdul, something that Fíli was not able to catch in his basic Khuzdul skills. Balin was just starting to teach him the secret language.

Suddenly a gust of wind came out of nowhere and removed Bofur's hat from his head. Fíli giggled at the site of Bofur standing up quickly and chasing his hat back in the direction that Fíli had come from.

"Found that funny Fíli, now did you lad?" Bombur answered with a hint of a laugh in his voice as well.

The dwarfling could only nod as somehow he found the energy to go into an all-out laughter as Bofur cursed out his hat as the wind would take it as soon as he caught up with it. Bifur laughed as well and offered his cousin a hand to stand up, he then proceeded to pick Fíli up off the ground and place him into Bombur's arms. Fíli nuzzled into Bombur's chest, something he would always do with his father or Uncle Thórin. His laughter quickly turned to tears as another memory hit him; one of Uncle Thórin holding him and Kíli and presenting them to their great-grandfather in formal court. More tears kept coming as Fíli remembered Kíli and the reason why he had run away from home to begin with.

 _Your_ _'_ _re no heir of mine!_

* * *

Dís awoke with a startle as something beneath her hand began to move. She looked down to see Kíli's finger twitch ever so slightly. Dís made to open up her mouth to say something to see if her youngest was away, when suddenly the five-year-old dwarfling began to move around uncontrollably. It was his first movement in nearly six days now, ever since the accident. But, this was not normal. He was flapping up and down like a fish out of water and his arms and legs were flailing every which direction. Dís tried to grab her son's arms to stop him but he pulled them away from her. He ended up punching her in the cheek hard instead.

Immediately, she yelled out a loud scream as she moved her hand to her cheek in pain. Multiple footsteps were heard in the hallway rushing towards her son's room. The door opened revealing Narvi whom ran immediately Kíli's other side. He nodded to someone out of Dís's vision who had turned her head to follow Narvi's actions.

"Don't touch him," Narvi yelled at someone whose hand entered her vision to grab Kíli.

Dís gasped as she felt a strong hand on her shoulder pulling her attention away from Narvi and her son. She followed the hand to its owner. It was her cousin Dáin. They had always been close growing up, and since she could not have her husband, father, or older brother (she could care less about her oldest brother at the present) she was glad to see him as a familiar face close to her age. Dáin gestured to the door. Dís did not need to see this, so she got up and followed Dáin towards the door to let Narvi and a group of other healers tend to Kíli.

Just as Dáin nearly had her out of the room, Kíli shrieked, causing her to turn an about face with Dáin quickly on her heels. She pushed her grandfather (who must have been the hand that Narvi yelled at) out of her way to get back to her son who would not stop seizing.

"Kíli! Mama's here!" She cried, as strong arms began to pull her away as she grabbed Kíli's thrashing hand.

"Get her out of here!" Narvi all but yelled to Dáin, as he pushed Dís away back into the stronger arms of her cousin. A medical emergency, which this was, was the only time Narvi could order the royal family around, and he made sure to take advantage of the situation.

"Out! Dís! Dáin! Now!" Narvi screamed, he could work with the king whom at the moment was the calmest of the present royal family.

"NOOOOOOO! Kíli! Dáin, stop!" Dís cried as Dáin pulled her and finally succeeded in getting her out of the room.

Narvi looked at Thrór who was helping Oín, a cousin of the royal family and a healer in his own right give Kíli a calming tea, which should stop the seizure. He feared what could happen if allowed to continue the way it was going. He had seen miners seize after mine collapses and when they finally had woken up things were not right. Some lost the ability to speak or walk, others lost sight or hearing, and the worst of them had memory loss that sometimes never came back. Narvi hoped that was not the case with the youngest prince.

Just as instantly as he began, Kíli stopped moving around with a sigh. The calming tea had worked. Narvi quickly went to check the dwarfling's breathing, that was always the first thing he did after witnessing a seizure. Narvi nodded at all present who were holding their breaths. They all knew what he had just done. A flash of silver and mithril flashed out of the corner of his eye. He turned to the chair that the princess had vacated and saw the king grab his great-grandson's hand and smoothed out his midnight colored hair, the same shade as his own and his oldest grandson. It was a gesture out of love and great concern, emotions only reserved and rightly so for his family.

"What did we just see?" Thrór asked Narvi breaking the silence that had settled over the room.

Narvi shook his head. He did not know how to the answer that one without making it seem like the worst had happened.

"Something awful, Sire, something awful," was the only thing that came out of his mouth.

* * *

Thráin led the search party down a familiar path of Mirkwood, toward the grand palace of their allies. He was hoping to run into a scouting party that Thranduil routinely sends out to hunt and kill the giant spiders that had settled in the once Greenwood. The quicker he found anyone, the quicker the search for his grandson could resume. However, as he has learned over the years, if an elf does not want to be found, they will not let themselves be.

Thráin turned his thoughts to the dwarves he had with him. He still could not talk to his eldest son. He had never been so mad at him, as he was at the present. It was an accident, only a simple accident, things happen, especially with young active dwarflings. However, accidents that knock a young dwarfling, actually any dwarrow into unconsciousness were rare. Still, that was no reason at all to practically disown another young dwarfling who loved you like a second father, and Thráin was willing to bet that said dwarfling if had the choice would choose you over his own father; especially one, who was still a child, barely into his twenties.

He sighed at the thought of his youngest son, Frérin, the wild one. The one who had nearly gotten himself banished when Fíli was only hours old because his best friend did something terrible with his own permission. Now Frérin had no chance of ever sitting on the throne of Erebor because of that. Fíli taking Frérin's place in the succession.

Then there was Víli, Thórin's childhood friend, the son of a wealthy shopkeeper who always had his eye on Dís. Thráin had never been so happy the day Víli had come to him and asked for his permission to begin to court his only daughter. He celebrated the day Víli finally asked Dís for her hand in marriage, earning himself the formal title of Lord Víli, Duke of the Lonely Mountain, a title his father bestowed upon him. He was so proud the day he became a grandfather for the first time and then a second time five years later.

And there was the royal guard, some of the best warriors and soldiers Erebor has to offer were part of the search party. That included Balin's brother Dwalin, who happened to be Thórin's best friend, a strong tailor/warrior Dori, with his younger brother, Nori. There was a third brother of theirs who was too young to be part of the guard, Ori. Then there was Gloin, the younger brother of Oin, both distant cousins of the royal family's. There were other dwarves but Thráin was too worried, too upset, too tired to think about their names.

"Father," said a currently much-hated voice, pulling Thráin out of his reverie, and stopping the party in their tracks.

"Thórin, don't talk to me right now, I don't want to hear your voice."

"Father," the voice sounded like it was begging for something that Thráin was not willing to give yet. Thórin tried again as he came up beside him and placed a hand on his father's shoulder.

Thráin shook his shoulder trying to pry the hand loose. "I will not talk to you until my grandson is found, until then; I have nothing to say to you."

Thórin slowly removed his hand, defeated in the moment. Thráin was being stubborn and he knew it. In rough times, the House of Durin should be sticking together, not practically exiling one of their own, no matter how mad they are at him. Though it was a taste of his own medicine after what he did.

Thórin tried one more time. He was tired of practically being ignored ever since finding out that Fíli was missing and a search party was being organized. "Father, if I could take it all back what I said and did, I would. But we have to find Fíli first, and for that we need to work together."

That caused Víli and Frérin to look in the direction of the crown prince and second heir. What was Thráin going to do? Thórin was right, but none of them were ever going to forgive him if something happened to Fíli.

Thráin did not have a chance to answer when all of the sudden the search party found themselves surrounded by the sound and sight of many bows and arrows being pointed in their direction, a nice welcome in Mirkwood.

* * *

"And that is how I became an orphan," Fíli said to his new friends as they sat around a fire with a dinner in a pot that Bombur was cooking.

Fíli's voice had come back to him with a little bit of water. He was glad it did, so could prevent his new friends from finding out his identity.

"Wow, Fíli, that seems like you've survived a very long time by yourself," Bofur said.

Fíli smiled to himself, they had bought his story of his parents and himself being attacked by orcs and him running away to survive. He just made up that story at the top of his head. The truth could never be known to them. If he would tell them that he was a runway prince, they most likely would deliver him back to the one person whom he had loved more than his parents, and said person had practically tossed him aside.

"Yes, I have been," Fíli answered.

"Food's ready," said Bombur as he grabbed four bowls out of his pack and began to serve the meal.

It was going to be Fíli's first real meal in six days now was it or was it five? He had lost track of time, and to him it did not matter to him anymore. Bombur handed him a bowl. Fíli tried the stew for that was the only thing he could call the mixture contained inside. It was the best thing he had ever tasted! It was even better than the royal chefs'. He began to eat the stew quickly; he was so hungry.

"Careful there laddie, you don't want to make yourself sick," Bombur said as he sat down next to him with his own bowl.

Fíli could almost smile, Bombur at that moment sounded like his Uncle Frérin, it was silly. Uncle Frérin was always saying that to him as that Fíli was always the first one done with his meal. He refused to think about his other uncle, the one he used to love, the one he thought he belonged to. If he were to return home, would he even be welcome there anymore? He did not know, and he did not know where that thought came from. He was sure by now everyone there had followed Thórin's ruling and had casted him officially out.

What he did know was that he was enjoying the little show that Bifur and Bofur were putting on after the food was gone and plates washed in the little stream next to where they had set up camp for the night. Bofur was playing a recorder and Bifur was using a pot as a drum. He was laughing at the comedic value of it, since neither of them appeared to have any musical talent. Fíli was also sure Bombur was laughing at the entertainment as well. During all of the excitement of the day, he felt himself dozing off. The last thing he remembered was his eyes drooping and him laying his head onto Bombur's shoulder just as he used to do to a certain someone back in Erebor.

* * *

Thank you to my amazing beta!


	4. Mirkwood and an Agreement

Just playing with everyone.

* * *

"Thranduil, can you help us?" Thráin asked, placing his goblet of wine on the table.

There was panic and worry in Thráin's voice, two emotions that Thranduil was not used to hearing in his long-time friend's voice. The Elvenking looked around at the odd little dwarven party currently seated at his dining table. It was not an uncommon sight to see dwarves from Erebor in Mirkwood especially in the last 200 years or so, but it was very unusual to see this many of the royal family all at once in Mirkwood, and this many of the direct line to the throne. Usually it was just one or two of them, or in the case of the Princess and her sons, three of them. Here there were three princes, including the crown prince, a lord, and some of the cousins who were part of the guard.

Thranduil was a king surrounded by princes and lords, including his own son and prince, Legolas. One of those princes, the second in line to the throne of Erebor looked surly, depressed, and guilty. Thranduil had never seen Thórin like that before and to put it frankly he did not like it. It was wrong. He had known him when he was just a blink in his mother's eye, he had always been lively and happy, yet he knew his duties. He knew when to be stern and mature and when to be carefree. Thranduil could still see the bright smile on his dwarven friend's face when he came to him one day nearly 21 years ago to announce that his sister was expecting the next in line to the Erebor crown. That was the true Thórin, not this one. This one was wrong; this entire situation was wrong, including how the dwarves came to be at his dining table.

 _Thranduil was out hunting with his son and a few of the royal guards, including Tauriel. It was rare that he as the king went out hunting but for some reason something told him to go. They had gotten no more than an hour outside of the palace when he heard a familiar voice saying something that he never wanted to hear._

 _"…_ _but we have to find F_ _í_ _li first, and for that we need to work together._ _"_

 _He gave the signal for the hunting party to draw, but not shoot more for protecting against any unwanted creatures of the forest; a war between elves and dwarves was not needed nor wanted. Thranduil knew that voice but he did not like what the voice said. The voice stopped talking and instead gasped, among what sounded like 20 other gasps._

 _"_ _Thr_ _á_ _in, Th_ _ó_ _rin, Fr_ _é_ _rin, V_ _í_ _li, what are you all doing here?_ _"_ _Legolas asked before Thranduil even had the chance to give the signal for his party to reveal themselves._

 _Before any of the dwarves could answer, Thranduil made his presence known, shocking his friends. He most certainly was not known for hunting, that much was certain._

 _All of the dwarves looked towards the crown prince of Erebor to make the first move as their current leader, and grandfather of the missing dwarfling. In response, Thr_ _á_ _in did something that shocked everyone, for it was practically unheard of among royalty of allied kingdoms. He got down to his knees and bowed to the Woodland King._ _"_ _My Lord Thranduil, I beg of you for your help. My grandson, F_ _í_ _li is missing._ _"_

 _Thranduil could feel his heart break at the emotion in the words. It was a very scary thought, a young child missing in the big world that was Arda, especially a young child that was loved as much as he knew F_ _í_ _li was. He responded by helping Thr_ _á_ _in_

 _"_ _We need to talk. What happened?_ _"_ _was all the Elvenking responded as he led the dwarves and his hunting party back towards the palace._

 _"_ _And that brings us here._ _"_ _Thr_ _á_ _in ended the story._

As one of Erebor's closest allies, Thranduil regardless was forced to help. There would have been a time before the founding of Erebor that Thranduil would have laughed the dwarves right out of Mirkwood. Since Thrór and the others built a kingdom in Erebor after Moira, and the two kingdoms began to trade with one another, over time the two races became allies and now close friends.

Thranduil could honestly say that he has watched every single dwarf currently around his table grow up from the littlest of babies to their own children as seen in the newest generation of dwarves, the young princes of Erebor, Fíli and Kíli. Thranduil could honestly say he has a friend in the crown prince of Erebor as well as his own children. He could see a blossoming friendship between his son and Tauriel and the youngest princes, if they could find the oldest one. If was not an option here. When. When was the option, not if. Never if. The Elvenking mentally corrected himself.

Looking around the table he saw that everyone had finished eating and drinking, and Thráin and Víli were looking in his direction with a begging look on their faces. He was surprised to a similar look on Frérin's face. Thórin refused to look up.

"Legolas, Tauriel," Thranduil said addressing his son and his captain of the guard, "go with the royal family in the morning and join the search party. Your eyes and skills with the bow will protect them from any unwanted company. I will take a small party and search in another area."

He was certain he shocked everyone, including his own guards at his taking of a second party to look for the missing prince. All he got in response were smiles from Thráin, Víli, and surprisingly Frérin. The only emotion Thórin showed was guilt, and from what he was told from his friends, all of this was his fault.

Thórin was responsible for all of this and he was fuming at his obvious irresponsibility, stupidity, and unthinkingness. All he could do now was order the guards to give the dwarves a room to get a few hours of sleep, since it was night.

Thranduil could not change what happened in the past, but he was determined to help set right the future.

* * *

Fíli awoke with a gasp. Something had woken him up from the greatest dream, his uncle, father, grandfather, great-grandfather, and brother were holding hands and spinning around like a ring. All of them were laughing and having a great time, he wished he could have finished the dream, alas that was not meant to be with the noise that he had just heard again. What was it? The wind? A warg? A wolf? Whatever it was, he was certain he did not want to know.

He yawned; he did not get enough sleep before being rudely awoken. He snuggled closed into his soft Bombur pillow, which in turn raised an arm and pulled him closer. Fíli smiled, this really could work, and he would never have to go back to where he was not wanted again. His eyes began to droop as sleep began to come to him again.

"Bombur, Bifur we have to get out of here now!" a loud voice cried waking up Fíli fully as well as Bifur and Bombur.

It was Bofur who had run back into camp (he was gone?) arms flailing around him. Bifur asked Bofur something in Khuzdûl that Fíli interrupted to be what was going on? He was just starting to learn Khuzdûl, when he ran away, and had always been able to pick up a word here and there from hearing it spoken around him by his family.

"Wargs! Orcs! A whole bunch of them and heading our way. We need to get back to the caravan, and fast! Staying here isn't a good idea! " Bofur yelled as he began to throw pots, pans, instruments and any other belongings into his pack.

In the predawn sky, Bombur and Bifur shared a nod and before Fíli could say anything, he was placed on his own two feet and found himself helping Bombur throw anything they could find into Bomburs pack. If in answer to Bofur's statement the unmistakenable sound of a warg echoed throughout the Gap of Rohan.

Fíli shuttered, as a once loved voice said in his head, "If you hear a warg, head up into a tree, you will be safe there". Fíli smiled at the memory as small as it was, a memory of a life he could no longer have. But there were no trees around them. What were they going to do?

Before he could even ask about it, he felt a tug on his arm. It was Bombur, hurrying him along. The four of them began to run in the opposite direction of the sound of the wargs. Towards what was that Bofur had said, a caravan? What is that? It was an unfamiliar word to the one time prince. For the first time in five days, Fíli felt small and very scared. He wanted to go home to the safety of the mountain, not to an unwanted family. Another scream from a warg caused them to run faster; they had to keep moving. It was the only way to stay alive.

* * *

"Kíli!" a voice cried in the darkness, bringing a very young dwarfling back to awareness for the first time in days.

"Wake up, Sweetie," an obviously female voice said.

Who was talking? Where was he? Why was everything so dark? Who was talking?

"Kíli, Great-grandson, please wake up." An older male voice cut in through the darkness.

He did not want to wake up, his head hurt and his insides hurt. He felt safe and comfortable in the darkness, where he could stay without anything hurting him. It was not time for him to wake up yet. So, he did not.

However, something was keeping him alert. Who was this Kíli all the voices were talking too?

* * *

Thank you to my wonderful beta reader, paytonrich!


	5. Thorin, Memories, and Dwarflings

Still don't own!

* * *

"Fíli! Fíli! Where are you?" Thráin yelled in the deepest part of Mirkwood.

"Fíli! Come on out, the game is over. You won!" Legolas yelled in a different direction.

"Fíli! Fíli! Son, are you here?" Víli screamed.

All that was met was the echoes of their own voices yelling the name of the missing dwarfling in the stillness of the Mirkwood forest.

This was not funny anymore, thought Thórin. His nephew was missing, his dear, sweet Fíli, whom in his short life was probably the most important person in Thórin's life. Now he was missing, and the only person to blame was himself.

To make matters worse, he by extension, had turned everyone in his family against him. His own father will not even look him in the eye, over what he said and did. His sister had only said one sentence to him in anger before he left her with an unconscious Kíli and ran to join the search party for Fíli. His brother-in-law could not even look in his direction. He did not even want to think about what his grandfather thought of him back home.

When it came to Fíli, he could care less about what his brother thought. He was even sure Legolas and Tauriel were against him as well, once they had been told by Thráin what had happened. Thórin felt sick about the feeling of Thranduil hating him, as one of his close friends. He truly was all alone in the world. He felt lonely, guilty, and just plain awful about himself. He could guarantee he probably felt worse than he imagined Fíli to be feeling, wherever he was.

As far back as he could remember, he had been taught not to show emotion in front of other people no matter whom they are to him. Nevertheless, all he felt like doing was crying. He felt like crying for what he did to Kíli, and what he said to Fíli. Thórin wanted to cry for the broken relationships he was not sure he could repair. It was him who had caused the damage, and he would never forget it for the rest of his life.

 _Th_ _ó_ _rin and his cousin/bodyguard, Dwalin were in the training room dueling with new swords made by the royal blacksmith. V_ _í_ _li and Fr_ _é_ _rin were sitting underneath a worn stone statue of Durin that had been there for centuries watching the dance of swords. It was an evenly match duel with two dwarves that had been training partners and brothers-in-arms throughout their entire lives. Th_ _ó_ _rin could say that he was in battle mode where nothing from the outside world seemed to matter, save for his opponent._

 _"_ _Fee, catch me!_ _"_ _a very young voice cried, muffled from the closed stone door._

 _Energetic laughter answered. Two dwarfling princes who were done with lessons for the day were now creating havoc and chaos throughout Erebor, causing their mother and guards grief. Normally when Throin and Dwalin would hear F_ _í_ _li or K_ _í_ _li_ _'_ _s voice behind the door the duel would stop in its tracks, and end for the day. However, today it just wanted to continue, neither of them wanting to stop._

 _Suddenly and unexpectedly, the door to the training room opened up and 15-year-old K_ _í_ _li came running into the room followed by his 20-year-old golden haired brother, a room both princes knew they were banned from entering, especially when the door was closed._

 _"_ _I_ _'_ _m going to get you, K_ _í_ _li!_ _"_ _F_ _í_ _li yelled in laughter, completely oblivious to the danger that his uncle and cousin were presenting to them._

 _In his laughter, K_ _í_ _li spotted his father and younger uncle sitting beneath the statue. He wanted his father to join in his and F_ _í_ _li_ _'_ _s fun. K_ _í_ _li darted right down the middle of the room towards his father, right into the midst of the duel. K_ _í_ _li had one destination in mind, the stone statue where his father and uncle were sitting. Abruptly K_ _í_ _li screamed in pain, as he passed his older uncle. Th_ _ó_ _rin, not paying attention had swung his sword and hit K_ _í_ _li in the head with the handle, and somehow bringing him airborne where he came to rest just feet from where V_ _í_ _li and Fr_ _é_ _rin were sitting on the statue._

 _"_ _KIIIIIIIIIIILLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLIIIIII!_ _"_ _F_ _í_ _li yelled effectively ending the duel, bringing Th_ _ó_ _rin and Dwalin back to reality._

 _There was silence in the room as the two swords were dropped to the floor with a clink and clank. Fr_ _é_ _rin and V_ _í_ _li immediately stood up and ran to where K_ _í_ _li had landed. F_ _í_ _li stood there looking at his brother in horror, what had just happened? Th_ _ó_ _rin could honestly say he had Dwalin to thank for acting quickly to run out of the room to get a healer for that what his nephew needed. All he could do was stare at the motionless dwarfling on the floor._

 _Reacting first, Fr_ _é_ _rin picked up his youngest nephew, and made way to leave the room to the infirmary, V_ _í_ _li on his heels. That left Th_ _ó_ _rin with F_ _í_ _li who was now in tears. This normally would be normal, for lately D_ _í_ _s and V_ _í_ _li were allowing him to discipline F_ _í_ _li. They felt that at twenty, it was time for him to learn to be an heir to the throne, something that would inevitably be his in the future._

 _Seeing F_ _í_ _li cry sparked something in Th_ _ó_ _rin. He was extremely worried about K_ _í_ _li, but he was madder at F_ _í_ _li for even allowing this to happen. Both princes knew that the training room was banned until they were much older. Whose idea it was to open the door and run into the room was beyond him, but he was livid that both boys had disobeyed the rules. Even worse, was the fact that he had just told F_ _í_ _li the previous evening that it was still banned to him when he asked when he could begin to learn to wield a weapon._

 _"_ _What were you thinking, F_ _í_ _li? Allowing your brother to run into this room and for you to follow him not even trying to stop him, but in laughter nonetheless! What were you thinking?_ _"_ _Th_ _ó_ _rin let his anger talk._

 _F_ _í_ _li sniffled, looked down at the floor, and mumbled something incomprehensible. There was nothing but guilt in his golden nephew_ _'_ _s eyes, and F_ _í_ _li knew that Th_ _ó_ _rin could see it._

 _"_ _What did you say?_ _"_ _Th_ _ó_ _rin asked angrily, probably the first time in F_ _í_ _li_ _'_ _s life that Th_ _ó_ _rin_ _'_ _s anger was directed directly at him. He_ _'_ _s been angry in front of F_ _í_ _li before, but never once was this angry at him._

 _"_ _Sorry,_ _"_ _was all F_ _í_ _li could say as he continued to look at the floor._

 _Th_ _ó_ _rin had had enough. He grabbed F_ _í_ _li_ _'_ _s chin and made him look him in the eye._

 _"_ _Sorry? Sorry? Look what happened and all you can say is sorry? You have been told multiple times, you and your brother both not to come into the room. If I remember correctly and my memory is not fading, I just told you yesterday! As the older brother, you should have been watching him, should have stopped him from entering this room, but did you? No, you decided to drop down to his level! And what_ _'_ _s the worst part about it is that you were laughing about it._ _"_ _Th_ _ó_ _rin yelled at his nephew._

 _Th_ _ó_ _rin dropped F_ _í_ _li_ _'_ _s chin, and allowed him a moment of tears, when he heard F_ _í_ _li sniffling to the floor._ _"_ _What do you have to say for yourself?_ _"_ _Th_ _ó_ _rin said through gritted teeth._

 _"_ _I_ _'_ _m sorry uncle._ _"_ _F_ _í_ _li all but whispered._

 _"_ _What did you say?_ _"_ _Th_ _ó_ _rin yelled again._

 _"_ _I said I_ _'_ _m sorry uncle!_ _"_ _F_ _í_ _li shouted the last word._

 _Th_ _ó_ _rin was beyond mad at that point. F_ _í_ _li should have known better and he knew it. Moreover, all he could say was I_ _'_ _m sorry?_

 _"_ _Sorry again? How dare you! How dare you apologize to me! You knew you were wrong! You knew it! As third in line for the throne you should know better! YOU_ _'_ _RE NO HEIR OF MINE! GET OUT! I DON_ _'_ _T WANT TO SEE YOUR FACE!_ _"_ _Th_ _ó_ _rin screamed._

 _F_ _í_ _li did not have to be told twice he turned and left the room before his beloved uncle could see him cry. The second F_ _í_ _li left, Th_ _ó_ _rin fell to his knees in tears of his own. What had he just done to both his nephews? The rest of the day was a blur to him, as everyone in the royal quarters seemed to ignore him, servants and family members alike. He did not even realize F_ _í_ _li was missing until Dis found him in the hallway in tears later on the evening._

 _"_ _Th_ _ó_ _rin, how could you?_ _"_ _She left almost as soon as she had come._

 _Punzzled by this, Th_ _ó_ _rin ran to the gate and saw his father, Fr_ _é_ _rin, V_ _í_ _li, and a contingent of guards including Dwalin and a few others he recognized including Gloin, Dori, and Nori heading down the path to Dale. He asked the gatekeeper where they were going. Those words he said would haunt Th_ _ó_ _rin forever._

 _"_ _They_ _'_ _re going to go find Prince F_ _í_ _li, my lord. He is not in the mountain._ _"_

 _Th_ _ó_ _rin felt his eyes widen. What had he done? At that moment, he regretted what he had said in the training room more than anything. Th_ _ó_ _rin knew what he had do, he had to fix this, make this right. He could not currently help K_ _í_ _li, but he certainly can help find F_ _í_ _li. Since this was his fault. He turned on his heels and ran back to his room. Th_ _ó_ _rin quickly grabbed his pack, sword, and water skin that were stored in the bottom of his wardrobe._

 _Leaving his room, he had no trouble dodging servants since no one seemed to want to be in his path, and he did not blame them for that. He made it to the kitchen in what had to be a new time record, grabbed some bread, and salted meat. He filled up his water skin using the pump that was installed when Th_ _ó_ _rin himself was K_ _í_ _li_ _'_ _s age. He turned to leave the kitchen when he found himself looking at a much older version of himself who was blocking the only way out. Th_ _ó_ _rin gulped at this unexpected meeting, he did not want to see anyone, but someone had found him. His grandfather, Thr_ _ó_ _r, King under the Mountain stared at him. Th_ _ó_ _rin could only stare back._

 _Seeing an exit behind the King, Th_ _ó_ _rin tried to go around his grandfather, but the king sensed this and put his arm out to block his mad dash._

 _"_ _My king?_ _"_ _Th_ _ó_ _rin asked in question. He was sure Thr_ _ó_ _r would be glad to get rid of him after what he did._

 _"_ _You caused this, now you fix this._ _"_ _Thr_ _ó_ _r said to him as he put his arm down._

 _Throin could only nod in acknowledgement as he ran past the king, to the gate, and sprinted to catch up with the search party_ _…_

In reality, it had been six days, nearly a full week since he had last seen his nephew. Or was it a full week? Thórin had truly lost track of time, and himself. All someone had to do was look at him to realize that something was wrong. He refused to braid his hair and his beard, something unheard of for the second in line to the throne. To be honest with himself he did not care anymore. He was all but an outcast from his own family, and Thórin was beginning to feel isolated. If anyone would give him the time of day, he would at least look presentable but no one cared about him and he did not care about himself. He wanted someone to talk to him; he needed someone to talk to him. He needed to apologize, especially to Víli for both his nephews. He was mad at himself for what happened to Kíli and took it out on the one who could not defend himself. Thórin was sorry for it all.

Once Fíli was found, he was going to apologize, and hold him in his arms and never let him go. He just hoped he did not ruin the relationship between him and his nephew forever. The last thing he wanted to do was lose Fíli to Frérin. Out of all the possible outcomes, that was the least acceptable. Dís, Víli, and himself had done a good job in Fíli's life to keep his brother away from him. His best friend had already tried to take Fíli from them once, and although it had never been proven, Thórin was certain Frérin was involved in the plot.

There was never a reason that would allow Frérin to be in the same room alone with Fíli. If Fíli's parents were not with him, then Thórin would be there. Thórin had become more like a second father to Fíli than an uncle because of this. It took a lot of convincing from Thráin and Thrór for Dís and Víli to even allow Frérin to hold baby Kíli when he finally made his appearance. At least Frérin could be an uncle to one of their nephews.

So engrossed in his memories was he, he did not realize he was crying while staring at the trunk of a tree. He was beginning to lose hope of ever getting his family back Thórin did not even hear Tauriel come up next to him. He barely felt her put her hand on his shoulder, his first person-to-person contact with someone else in what was beginning to feel like a lifetime.

He leaned into his friend's touch, milking it for all it was worth. All of the sudden, a cry went out. Tauriel released him and both of them ran to the center of the search area where their party had gathered. Víli was in the center of it holding some objects with Legolas looking solemn. Thórin at that point could not stop the tears from flowing.

For in Víli's hands was a lock of blonde curly hair and a piece of ripped cloth. At closer inspection, the ripped cloth was Durin blue and had half the symbol of the royal house on it. It could only belong to Fíli. Thórin choked on his own tears.

* * *

A finger jerked, or so Narvi thought. He had casted out everyone in the royal family save for cousin Oin who he had sent out to get some hot tea for them. Therefore, it was just him and the listless prince. Narvi had to admit he was scared that Kíli was never going to wake, and when he did, he would never be the same. Head injuries were funny, you never know what's going to happen with them. What will the person lose? Will they ever gain it back? Narvi glanced at the prince's still face. It had been too long since he had seen that heart warming smile. Kíli was known throughout Middle Earth of having a very infectious smile that everyone loved to see on him. He missed the smile and his laughter. He even missed his brother and him coming into him almost every hour on the hour with their latest scrape or bump that they needed fixed. Would he ever have that happen again?

Narvi reached out to smooth Kíli's dark hair back away from his closed eyes. He immediately pulled back; he could have sworn he felt his eyes twitch. He turned his gaze to Kíli's hands again, this time he did not imagine it, a finger was moving, albeit slowly but it was moving. Was Kíli waking up? He did not want to give the royal family false hope, but Kíli deserved to wake up to faces who loved him. He stood up and walked to the door to signal to the guard to go retrieve the king, his granddaughter, and nephew from wherever they had gone when he banished them. Looking back at his patient, he looked like his normal self in a deep sleep, but why did he feel that something was not right with the dwarfling?

* * *

Fíli tried to keep up with Bofur, Bombur, and Bifur as they ran as far away from the sound of the wargs as possible. His short young legs kept him behind the three grown-ups. All that mattered to him was that with every step he took closer to the caravan or wherever he was being led to, the further away he got from those who did not want him. He screamed as his foot met a hole in the ground buried by snow and he found himself face down in the snow again. He was done with the ground and snow after this week, he vowed never to sit nor sleep on the ground again, it was very uncomfortable that was for sure.

"Help!" he screamed, hoping to catch the attention of Bombur, luckily it had stopped snowing so his voice could travel a bit more.

He groaned, this time he was sure he had injured his ankle. Narvi and Oin would only be shaking their heads at him, another injury to add on to the list he and Kíli have. He yelled again, only to find himself being lifted into the air. Bifur had come to his rescue. Instead of placing him on his feet, he threw Fíli onto his shoulder like uncle Thórin used to do when he was smaller and began to run to catch up with his cousins. They could not stop, they had no idea how much distance they had put between them and the wargs. They had to reach the caravan. It felt like they had been running for hours.

In Bifur's arms, he felt comfortable, more comfortable than he had felt in six days, well not as comfortable as last night as he felt sleeping on Bombur, but comfortable, and well protected. He could get used to this, a father in Bombur, and uncles in Bofur and Bifur. Fíli felt himself dozing off again, and he was certain he did when he was woken up by a female's voice.

"Bombur! Bofur! Bifur! Why are you running?" The voice yelled.

Fíli lifted his head up off Bifur's shoulders to see that they had arrived at a site next to a river. There were about 15 wagons set up around a campfire. Each cart appeared to belong to a family for each one seemed to have bed rolls in front of them as well as various other odds and ends. Nomads! He had found three members of a nomadic tribe of dwarves! Balin had taught him all about them, they were part of a long lost line of Longbeards though not Durin's Folk like himself. This was an unexpected turn of events. Most likely, they had no idea who he was to Erebor, for he was certain Prince Fíli of Erebor and the rest of the royal family was known throughout the major settlements of Middle Earth. This was perfect; as long as he played his part correctly, they would never send him back.

He felt two arms gently come from behind him and take him away from Bifur, it was a familiar feeling that Uncle Thórin would do to take him away from an adult when he would fall asleep in their arms. His father or mother never did that, it was always his uncle. But this time, it was Bombur, and he did not feel like he was taking any chances with him slowing them down. He was brought over to one of the wagons, where a dwarrowdam and four dwarflings, all looking to be around his and Kíli's age were sitting around eating what looked like a stew around a bunch of bedrolls. He placed Fíli down with the dwarflings, as the dwarrowdam stood up.

"Fíli, these are my children Eydis, Oydis, Eluf, Tyr, and my wife Ase. Children, Ase this is Fíli, he's an orphan I found." Bombur explained.

"Bombur!" Ase began to say in protest as Bombur held up his hand to stop her.

"Children, help your uncle and cousin to pack up the camp, we need to leave quickly. Ase, come with me."

The two adults made their way over to neighboring wagons to warn the other dwarves that the wargs were behind them, and that they needed to leave. None of the children protested their father's orders when they saw the urgency that Bifur and Bofur were picking up the families' belongings. Even Fíli joined in not knowing them.

"Who are you?" One of the lads asked.

Fíli looked at the other lad. He was about Kíli's age, with bright ginger hair and eyes the color of a spring grass. This dwarfling was certainly younger than the other lad and one of the lasses. He saw no harm of at least telling them his name again since their father had already broken the ice. Fíli did not think these dwarflings would recognize his name since their father obvious did not, and friends would be a nice thing to have.

"My name is Fíli. Your father found me in Gap of Rohan."

"What were you doing there?" The older lass asked as she was rolling up a bed roll. Fíli decided to tell the same lie he told Bombur, Bifur, and Bofur.

"My parents and I got attacked by something. I ran before they could capture me, but I heard my parents scream," said Fíli, as he threw a kettle into the wagon.

The older lass and lad looked at one another. Fíli wondered if they were suspicious of him. He did say that excuse a little too quickly and instantly for it to be the truth. He only hoped that they were not on to him.

"You're an orphan, aren't you?" the youngest lass asked coming up to Fíli with a doll in her hands.

Fíli's only response was a nod. At least he had won one of the dwarflings over.

"Yay!" the lass said again. "Other families have taken orphans in it's our turn!" She finished the last part a little too loudly, catching the attention of other dwarves in the caravan their way.

"Oydis!" the oldest girl scolded.

Oydis giggled. "Oh my name is Oydis!"

"My name is Tyr!" The lad who initially asked Fíli his name was coming over with a handful of forks.

Oydis and Tyr seemed to be the same age. Twins perhaps. She had hair the color of midnight and had the same spring grass eyes as Tyr.

"My name is Eluf!" The other lad said from behind Fíli. He appeared to closer to Fíli's age than Tyr and Oydis but a bit younger, perhaps a year or two. He was certainly older than the other two. He had the same colored hair as Bofur, brown as tree bark, and liquid black eyes, as dark as night, just like Kíli. He, like Fíli had the beginnings of a beard.

After a long sigh, the oldest lass finally introduced herself. "My name is Eydis."

She looked like she was the same age as himself. She resembled Tyr and her father a lot with the same ginger hair and the same grass green eyes. Fíli could see right away that Eydis was going to be the hardest one to convince that he was truly an orphan. She seemed to be on to him already and they had only known each other for a few short minutes.

There was a loud crash from the other side of the camp fire as one of the wagons tipped over in all of the chaos, spilling all of its contents and three dwarflings in the wagon to the ground. The entire family with the aid of Bombur and Ase up righted the wagon and threw the contents back in.

"Fíli, what's going on?" Eydis asked him, as she realized that something serious was occurring, as her parents rarely helped other families.

Fíli saw no harm in telling them the truth, about why they were leaving this area in a hurry. Even Kíli knew what wargs and orcs were, he suspected these nomadic dwarflings would surely know what they were and how dangerous they were.

"We believe we were followed by wargs," said Fíli, "we need to leave here before they can catch us!"

He watched as Tyr and Oydis's eyes widened up in fear. Maybe he shouldn't have told them?

"We were nearly captured last year by orcs. They killed Bifur's wife," Eluf said out of the blue.

"I miss her, she was funny," Tyr interjected.

"Me too!" replied Oydis.

"But, if it's the same orc pack, we need to leave," an older voice sounded from behind them.

It was Bofur followed by Bifur. Fíli could only stare at Bifur, was the axe in his forehead from the orcs? He wanted to find out.

"Into the wagon with you kids," Bofur said as he picked up Tyr and Oydis and placed them into the wagon. Bifur picked up Eluf. He felt arms around him again and placing him with the others into the wagon. It was Bombur again. He did not see who helped Eydis into the wagon as she was placed next to him. He assumed all of the wagons were packed.

Bombur went to the front of the wagon and pulled the handles up. He pulled it to the front of the caravan as Ase, Bofur and Bifur walked alongside. The other wagons followed them towards an unknown destination, away from the orcs, away from the Gap of Rohan, and away from Erebor the only place he had ever called home.


	6. The Awakening

Nope still don't own any of this.

* * *

"Kíli! Can you hear me?" a feminine voice called out.

The dwarfling let out a weak moan. Was it really time to open up his eyes now? Did he have to? But wait, who was that voice calling? Was it him? Was he Kíli? Did he know that voice? Maybe it really was time to open up his eyes, even if it was just to find out the answers to his questions.

He was able to let his eyelids flutter open before having to close them again. The light, too bright! He whimpered in protest.

"That's right, Kíli, come on," a male's voice cut in this time.

This time he obeyed, that voice was just too demanding for him not to. He opened up his eyes fully for the first time in days. He was lying in a very large bed that was big enough to sleep four full-grown dwaves comfortably without them touching. The dwarfling found himself surrounded by faces of dwarves that looked like he should know them, but when he went to think about who they are, he found a big block in his mind.

What was that? There was a dark-haired younger dwarrowdam standing in front of a slightly older salt-and-pepper haired dwarrowdam on one side of him. They had a look upon their faces of sorrow, loss, and weariness. At the foot of the bed stood a young auburn-haired dwarf who had a look of utmost concern on his face.

The three dwarves seemed to be having a staring contest with him, but the more he stared at the auburn-haired dwarf, the more familiar he felt. Who were these people? Did he know them? Were some of them the ones who were speaking to him and calling him Kíli? The dwarfling whimpered, effectively ending the contest.

"KÍLI, MY BABY!" the dwarrowdam exclaimed as she reached down to grab him in his arms.

The dwarfling looked at her. Nope, not familiar to him at all. Not remembering who she was to him, he did the only thing he could do to stop her, he screamed, causing the door he did not realize was there to open. More dwarves rushed in.

The dwarrowdam stopped just before she could grab him and she frowned. "Kíli, you don't recognize me?"

The dwarfling looked at her again. He did not remember her at all, nor the older dwarf behind her. The auburn-haired dwarf at the foot of the bed looked like he could be familiar, but he was not sure. He watched as the dwarrowdam turned around to sob into the older dwarf.

"Grandfather," she weeped, as the auburn-haired dwarf shook his head.

Something was wrong here thought the dwarfling, and the wrong thing was him. The dwarfling did the only thing he could do, he screamed again as the dwarves that rushed into the room before swarmed around him and began to pull and poke him.

"AHHHHHHHHHHH!"

* * *

"Eydis, I'm scared," said Oydis as the sound of a warg pierced through the calm winter sky for the first time.

Eydis only responded by pulling her sister into a hug, as Bombur pulled the cart further and further away from the Gap of Rohan. It certainly looked like it was about to start snowing again. That would not be a bad thing if it did, thought Fíli as he sat in the back corner of the wagon next to where Ase was walking.

There was no safe place for the caravan to go without the chance of being caught by the wargs and eaten for the next meal. The snow would at least slow the orcs down creating some distance between them and the caravan.

Fíli turned his attention to the others in and with the wagon. Tyr was sleeping in Eluf's lap in the opposite corner where Bifur was walking. Bofur was walking next to Eydis and Oydis closer to the front of the wagon. Behind them all were the rest of the wagons in the caravan.

It did not take Fíli long to realize that Bombur was the leader of the caravan, and whatever he said, the others followed. In a strange way, Bombur was like his great-grandfather; instead of being King under the Mountain, he was King of the nomadic caravan.

Bofur seemed to take the place of his grandfather, sometimes taking orders from his brother and sometimes issuing them. Ase was easy, she was like his mother. Bifur on the other hand was the strangest. He was not quite like Uncle Thórin in his role, as he really wasn't learning anything from Bofur. He was more or less just there. It was a tough parallel for Fíli to draw, since there was not one. Perhaps it was more or less like Uncle Frérin, just there?

Fíli watched as Tyr winced in his sleep as the wheel of the cart hit a bump. How he could sleep through all of this, he had no idea. The girls were still hugging one another that might be their way of coping with this. Eluf just looked dejected, like he just did not care. This had to have happened before, thought Fíli. Nomads, of course. Eluf also looked like he was in pain with Tyr's full weight on him. Fíli thought about helping Eluf share the weight of Tyr, but he did not think Ase would appreciate a mud covered Tyr.

She already had to deal with muddy clothes from Bombur, Bofur, and Bifur, no thanks to Fíli and his love/hate relationship with the ground. He really needed a bath, as he had not had one since the night before he ran from Erebor. He could only imagine how he looked, he had not seen a reflection of himself in days. He could feel the mud on his face, in his hair, he could see his once blue tunic now night colored and torn in many places. He looked like a pauper, not a one-time prince.

He frowned at the thought of his family, well one-time family. What would they think of him now, looking the way he felt?

A gasp and the tipping of the wagon brought everyone back to the world of awareness. Somehow, Fíli ended up on Eydis's lap with Oydis hanging on for dear life at the edge of the wagon with Bofur trying to push her back in the wagon. He took a quick look back, Eluf and Tyr had replaced him in his corner.

How this happened, he could not even start to explain. All he heard though behind him was a series of various gasps, whoas, and belongings falling out of wagons. Then there was an eerie silence like everyone knew they were about to be attacked by orcs. Luckily, none made themselves known. The sound of a baby crying broke through the stillness.

"Is everyone okay back there?" Bombur shouted back towards the other wagons, while Bofur, Ase, and Bifur helped the dwarflings fix their belongings and themselves in the cart.

No one in the back shouted that they were injured or something was broken. However, they were now stopped and with the short winter nights upon them, daylight was slowly fading into times unknown. Orcs tended to attack at night, or at least that is what Balin had told him. Fíli had never asked if that was true, and he never wanted to find out. He had no idea where in Middle Earth they were right now, and the scary part about it was that Bombur did not look like he knew where they were either.

This place could not be a safe place, could it be? They were completely exposed out in the open with a running stream to the right of them. And there were mountains in the distance to the left.

On the horizon there looked like there was some sort of forest. Fíli was too far away to determine what forest it was, it could not have been Mirkwood again could it be? They were not taking him back to Erebor were they? He squinted, trying to focus his eyes on the distant forest. The forest looked too green for it to be Mirkwood, perhaps it was another elven realm? He had no time to begin to determine which it was with the fading daylight.

Suddenly, three dwarves came running from the direction of the forest. When did they go past them? They spoke to Bombur with Fíli catching words like cave, forest, large, and not deep. It seemed like a good place to hide for a while so the orcs could bypass them.

Fíli made a motion with his hands to pull attention to himself to have the floor to tell them to head to the cave, like Uncle Thórin taught him to do in court. Catching Eydis's green eyes on him, he quickly pulled back. That was a close one, risking exposing the truth about himself like that, and now he pulled even more suspicion from her. Fíli could tell that she was about to ask him something about what he just did when Bombur picked up the cart and they began to move again. Eydis looked away.

Fíli let out a breath he did not even know he was holding. It was not entirely impossible that someone in this caravan was from Erebor and would recognize his name and try to return him. It was also entirely possible that that someone had told Eydis about the royal family and their names. Fíli had to be extra careful around her for a while until her suspicion rose.

As for anyone recognizing him by looks, he was sure he was unrecognizable though being mud covered and everything. He was safe, at least from anyone recognizing him for now.

Being safe from the orcs however, now that was a totally separate story, did they have an intense sense of smell that they would be to tell one dwarf from another, especially being able to recognize a dwarf from the Line of Durin? That was something to watch out for as well.

Night had fallen fully by the time Bombur and the caravan reached the cave. It was not deep at all, it was more or less a large hole in a gigantic rock that was just deep enough for the caravan to remain hidden in the shadows should orcs come upon them.

It would do for the night. Bomur set the cart down as Bifur and Bofur began to unload it with the help of the four dwarflings. Fíli went ahead to grab a blanket to hand to Bifur when hands grabbed him from behind and out of the cart.

"Hey!" he cried in protest, but it went unheeded.

He had no idea who had him or even where he was going, as he captor brought him to the other side of the wagon where Ase was taking things out of the wagon and placing them into a basket. He was placed on his feet next to her.

"Here is he, Love," said Bombur (who had obviously been his captor) as he bent down to kiss Ase.

"Thank you, Bombur, I can handle him from here."

Fíli gulped what did she mean by "handle"?

* * *

Ever since they had found Fíli's torn shirt Thórin had not lifted his gaze up from the ground. He was finding his feet and the fallen snow more fascinating than his family, friends, and companions.

No one would even talk or walk next to him. Everyone was socially exiling him, and by Mahal, did he deserve it. Legolas and Tauriel walked with Thráin, Víli, and Frérin up front, while he walked way behind the dwarven and elven guards accompanying the group. He was certain that Dwalin would not even care to turn around to at least check on him at this point.

Thórin felt like crying by now, he was not part of this company any longer and he was sure he was disowned by his family. Disowned, just like he did to Fíli. It was a taste of his own medicine and he knew deep down he deserved it.

He did not have to be out here looking for his nephew; he was not invited to do so. He was the one who sought out the gate guard to find out where his father, brother, and brother-in-law were going; he was the one who ran to follow them out, and he was the one who caused all of this in the first place.

Thórin would not blame his family if they never spoke to him again. His nephews would each be a better king than he would be anyways. Thórin felt so miserable at his thoughts. He knew what he had to do. He had to make this right, had to right this wrong, all by himself. No one would notice him missing, and he did not think anyone would care.

Thórin followed the company out of Mirkwood but was falling more and more behind the guards. It was getting to the point where he could barely make out the tattooed head of Dwalin, or the star shaped hair of Nori.

He watched as his father lead the company to a fork in the path, one path led towards the Misty Mountains, and the other, the Gap of Rohan. Thórin stopped behind a rock when the company stopped at the fork. He watched as Legolas, at least, he thought it was Legolas as that there were no other Mirkwood elves up front with blonde hair that glistened in the light of dusk, bend his head to discuss something with his father (the obvious person), and then they took the path that led up to the mountains. He waited until the last guard was out of his eyesight, which happened once darkness prevailed. Thórin came around the rock and began his journey towards the other path, the path that led to the Gap of Rohan. He was going to make this right.

 _F_ _í_ _li, I_ _'_ _m coming for you_ , Thórin thought to himself.

* * *

"Go away!" Kíli yelled at Narvi, the healer, who had once again came into his room to check on him.

The dwarfling on the bed, whom he found out was him, the mysterious Kíli everyone was talking too, was scared at everyone and everything. He had no recollection of who he was save his name that he learned that day, where he even was (a room that he was sure about), and who these people were that kept coming in.

He wanted nothing to do with the black haired dwarrowdam who had grabbed him earlier that day. She was scary. However, there was something familiar about her, something very familiar, like he should know her and the auburn-haired dwarf that took her out the room earlier. He wished he could remember.

The only one in the room with him at that moment was the older dwarf who was wearing a colorful crown of mithril and every stone imaginable. The dwarf Kíli had to admit was strangely familiar, there was also something regal about him.

He was wearing a crown if the dwarfling remembered correctly, a crown meant royalty, a leader. The older dwarf had been visited by groups of dwarves throughout the day wearing regal robes that had bowed to him. They all thought Kíli was asleep but he able to watch them through half-opened eyes. The dwarf was sitting in a chair that had been placed alongside his bed. Kíli wished he could remember who he was, he seemed very important to the world outside the door, but to Kíli as well.

Kíli wanted to speak to the older dwarf, perhaps he had the answers he needed. Would he answer them? The dwarfling wished he could remember when he was younger, wished he could remember anything. The older dwarf realized that was Kíli staring at him. He stood up and sat down on the edge of the bed.

"Do you know who I am?" Thrór asked him softly.

Kíli whispered honestly, "No."

Thrór frowned at that. He bent down so his face was just over Kíli's. The dwarfling did not feel frightened though, like he did earlier when the dwarrowdam had grabbed him. He felt like he could trust him that is why he did not scream when Thrór kissed him on the top of the head.

"My poor, poor boy. My little Kíli, you don't deserve this. You don't deserve any of this. I only wish you would remember us, your mother, your cousin, me. I only wish your father, uncles, and brother were here. Fíli would help you, I know he would. But it's all Thórin's fault why he's not, and why your like this." Thrór whispered.

Kíli's eyes opened up wide at that. Who were these people the dwarf mentioned, and was the dwarf sitting next to him family? He had a brother? He had uncles? Who were Fíli and Thórin? These names felt so familiar to him but he could not find the answer why in his head.

"Who are you?" Kíli whispered, letting the older dwarf know his confusion.

The dwarf looked like he was about to cry, and for an elder to cry, something must be very wrong. The dwarf put his hand on top of Kíli's and squeezed.

"I'm your great-grandfather, Kíli. Your mother's father's father," the King under the Mountain told his great-grandson solemnly.

Kíli was in shock, he was the great-grandson of royalty? He did not believe it, so he did the only thing that seemed to get people of the room. He screamed.

* * *

Fíli whimpered as Ase dunked his head underneath the stream, it was cold! Under the light of a dim lantern, she was giving him a bath, his first in a number of days. Handling turned out to be something totally harmless and quite welcome, as he was finally getting the mud that had caked all over him. Fíli felt that she was really working her fingers through his curly hair, it must be very tangled.

All of the sudden he had a flash of something in his mind, of this same dwarrowdam holding him over the river in Erebor. That was crazy though, he had never met her before in his life before this morning, and he was certain she had never been to Erebor.

"Ow!" He screamed as she pulled a little too hard.

"I'm sorry sweetie. That was very knotted up, I have to tug the mud out," she said in a motherly tone.

Fíli smiled to himself, she called him sweetie, just like Dís used to and in the same tone of voice. This might work itself out after all.

Ase rubbed something into his hair that smelt like wet grass and summer flowers. But, it was January, or was it February now he was never good with dates. And why did it smell like flowers? She ran his head underneath the stream again.

"Almost have your hair clean, Fíli. You didn't tell us you have blonde hair, thought it was black." Ase said as she continued to scrub his hair under the dim lantern light.

Uh oh, thought Fíli, someone could recognize him if his true hair color was coming through.

Ase finished up with his hair and began to scrub his body with a cake of soap. He laughed, that really tickled. Ase realized he was laughing, and began to laugh as well with him. She put the soap down on the ground and tickled his tummy. The harder Fíli laughed, the harder Ase laughed. It was an all-out laughter war in the dark of night!

"Got you!" Ase said as she placed Fíli completely into the stream. Always an ulterior motive with adults and baths.

"Ahh! Cold!" Fíli screamed, he was not expecting that at all.

Ase dunked him in a couple of more times. "All done!" she exclaimed as she pulled him out and wrapped a large raggy towel around him.

Fíli smiled, for the first time in days he felt like himself again. Could he ever be himself again though after what happened and what was said to him?

Ase allowed him to dry himself off, he certainly was old enough, before turning around and handing him an old tunic of Bofur's. He was taller than Eluf, despite being around the same age. He took after his uncle and grandfather in that respect. All of the sudden Ase gasped. Fíli turned his head towards her, she was holding her hand over hermouth.

"Whats wrong?" Fíli asked as he realized she was holding leggings for him. She must have gotten a glimpse of him in the lantern light.

"You're-you're Prince Fíli, of Erebor!" She stuttered.

Fíli's only thought was _uh oh,_ _she knows_ …

* * *

A/N: Thank you a ton to my beta! This chapter now feels a lot better.


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